


Stuck and Running

by usernicole



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Child Abandonment, Established Relationship, Family, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mother-Son Relationship, Terminal Illnesses, Weddings, maybe if they gave me actual relationship development i wouldnt have to do this, post season 5 fix it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15668667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usernicole/pseuds/usernicole
Summary: It's a week before Keith and Lance are set to be married and, against their better judgment, Krolia is invited.Against her better judgment, she shows up.





	Stuck and Running

**Author's Note:**

> me before s7: canon messed up my whole shit :( what am i gonna do w this 10k of keith character study and unfortunate projection of my own parental issues :(
> 
> me after s7: dreamworks whomst?????? canon what???????? ive never heard of voltron legendary defender
> 
> but anyway i am and always have been disappointed with how keith and krolias relationship was handled. this was written directly after season 5 and abandoned when season 6 came out. i am thinking of this show as though its a big, awful subway restaurant and im bypassing all the wilted, queerbaiting vegetables in favor of triple mayonnaise and every kind of cheese, if mayonnaise and cheese are metaphors for like "realistic depictions of family relationships" and "happy gays"
> 
> oof got kinda lost in there a bit
> 
> this was pre-keiths dad as a firefighter and pre-veronica and pre-lots of things. i havent decided what im keeping and what im throwing away but who knows?? if people like this maybe ill figure it out. thanks as always to amanda for reading this over!!
> 
> title is from harry styles' power ballad sign of the times, the best song ever written

Keith remembers the day he learned his dad was sick in vivid detail.

Maybe it would have been easier had it not been Keith’s dad doing the telling. Maybe if they had sat Keith down at the hospital and a bland, official-looking person in a white coat had told him in clinical detail how and why his dad would be taken from him, Keith would have handled it better, or understood more, or felt less helpless.

But that’s not how it happened. It happened with Keith and his dad, alone on their porch. Keith had been nine years old, and his dad had made spaghetti for dinner. It was the only thing his dad could make well, and subsequently it was Keith’s favorite. They didn’t get it often. Keith’s dad liked to make the sauce from scratch, and his work schedule was more conducive to ramen noodles and dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets warmed up in the microwave. But Keith’s dad made spaghetti that night, and that’s how Keith knew something was different.

Most nights, when Keith’s dad didn’t have to work, they’d sit together on the porch and look at the stars in the horizon. And he wouldn’t admit it at the time, but it was always the best part of Keith’s day. Keith would sit cross-legged at the foot of his dad’s old chair, and his dad would chain smoke and point out the different constellations. Mostly, though, they would sit in silence and listen to the sounds of the desert, the low thuds of moths hitting the dim bulb of the porchlight, the quick flapping of bats overhead, the distant yowling of a coyote.

What Keith remembers of that night is the feeling of being full, sitting back on the palms of his hands and every so often poking at his swollen tummy. He had maybe overdone it at dinner, but his dad had added sausage to the sauce as a special treat, which made Keith think that maybe his dad was going to tell him they were moving, and his dad wanted to sweeten the news somehow. Keith hoped they weren’t moving. He liked their little house in the desert far more than any of the dingy apartments they’d lived in previously.

His dad didn’t talk for a long time, though. He didn’t smoke either, which was strange. Keith couldn’t recall a night like that one where his dad hadn’t lit up a cigarette as soon as he’d settled, muttering a low, “Don’t be like me, kid,” as the small flame lightened his dark eyes.

They sat like that for a while, Keith’s dad staring speculatively into the distance, and Keith squirming in too-full discomfort and anticipation.

When Keith’s dad did talk, he said, “You know, when I met your mom I started thinking that everything happens for a reason.”

Keith paused in his fidgeting, turning slightly to the side to look up at him.

It’s not as though Keith’s dad  _ never  _ talked about Keith’s mom. It was just rare, and almost never without prompting from Keith himself. 

“When I met your mom,” Keith’s dad repeats, “I thought, ‘this sort of thing doesn’t just happen.’”

He sat back in his chair and the seat creaked unhappily. Keith winced at the sharp noise. 

“It seemed...unreal,” his dad continued. He felt far away from Keith, in that moment, unreachable in a way that made Keith want to grab onto him, latch onto his leg the way he had when he was much littler. “Like everything I had done in my life up to that point was in preparation of it. Good, bad, all of it. It was getting me ready. Like I was made to meet your mom.”

He looked down ay Keith then, and he looked different, nothing like Keith’s dad, tall and strong and always a little amused. He looked sad, or something like that. It was an unfamiliar look. 

“And you know what?” he continued. “I was right. I was right, because if I hadn’t met your mom, then I wouldn’t have had you. Your mom leaving…” He trailed off, and when he saw Keith’s worried face he smiled wryly, leaning down to ruffle Keith’s hair. “When your mom left, it hurt a lot. And I was mad. I was  _ so  _ mad, I’ll never lie to you about that. But I pulled through.  _ We _ pulled through, because we had each other. We were each other’s. Every...shitty, no good, awful thing in my life happened to put me here, with you. You were the end goal. This was meant to happen. You get that?”

Keith didn’t really, but he wanted his dad to think he did. He nodded tentatively.

“Good,” his dad said, leaning back in his chair. He seemed so tired lately, all the time. Too sleepy to take Keith on hoverbike rides, or play Cowboys vs. Aliens like they used to. Keith’s dad took a deep breath, and then, bizarrely, he slid from his chair down to sit next to Keith on the ground. He sighed again as he settled, reaching over to place one large hand on Keith’s shoulder and pull him into a one-armed hug. “I want you to remember that, that all bad things happen for a reason. It’s all just...stepping stones toward what really matters. Without bad things, we wouldn’t have good things. Without your mom, I wouldn’t have you.”

Keith nodded, curling closer into his dad’s chest. His dad had gone silent again, staring out at the empty dirt road that led to their house. The desert was pretty bright at night, the sky was clear. Keith’s dad dropped his head to the side, bending awkwardly to rest his chin atop of Keith’s head.

He sighed again, for a third time, and the movement was huge and heavy against Keith’s small body. Keith’s dad said, “I’m sick, Keith.”

Then, “I’m not going to get better.”

Keith remembers the day he learned his dad was sick in vivid detail, because it was the first time in his life that he felt really, truly angry.

***

Keith has had better days.

He wants to say it’s Lance’s fault, because it’s easier that way and not  _ too _ far from the truth, but the real honest truth is that it’s no one’s fault, and nothing really could have prevented this turn of events.

It starts because Lance had been called into work.

He’s been back on Earth for over a year now, something he honestly had not seen happening after being shot into space against his will at the tender age of eighteen. Living on Earth was never the goal. There was nothing on Earth to keep him there, so he couldn’t possibly fathom returning, after everything.

Or, at least, that is what Keith had  _ thought,  _ soaring about at the speed of light and sword fighting his way through the universe, what he hadn’t factored into the equation was Lance.

But really, who could predict Lance? Certainly not Keith, who had left Earth thinking himself incapable of love and returned with an engagement ring and a long-term relationship, complete with a lifetime of near-death experiences and unknowable traumas to bind them together forever. 

Regardless, Keith is back, and the universe has been defended. Some of the others are still out amongst the stars, ensuring that the dissolving of the Galra empire goes smoothly, and keeping an eye out for any Zarkon-wannabes out there who may get ideas. Lance and Keith had opted for a more relaxed lifestyle, returning to Earth and Lance’s family. Keith doesn’t guarantee that they’ll stay forever, because the universe is unfathomably huge and evil isn’t limited to the Galra Empire. But Keith is settling, he’s learning to enjoy the quiet. He’s happy.

It’s a life Keith never imagined for himself, didn’t think he was built for. Him and Lance live in a small-but-not-cramped apartment in Florida, near Lance’s mom. He falls asleep next to Lance, and wakes up with him. They adopted a cat (Taquito is, from what the shelter guessed, about eleven years old. He’s big, black, and missing a good chunk of his left ear. He’s perfect). 

Keith is doing normal things. He’s grocery shopping and getting haircuts and, in a little over a week, him and Lance are finally (“ _ Finally,” _ Lance says, as often as he can. “After so many years living in sin, you’re making an honest man out of me, Keith Kogane. I’ll be able to look my mother in the eyes again. Finally, finally, finally.”) getting married.

Keith is getting used to the idea that he’s safe where he is, that there’s no big bad in his periphery waiting to come and snatch away everything he’s grown to love. He’s suffered enough in his twenty-five years, and he’s starting to believe he deserves the reprieve. He helped save most of the known universe, after all.

It’s supposed to be Lance’s day off, and any time off has become a precious commodity in their household. All of the time they have is spent picking out flowers, or attending fittings, or tasting cakes. Keith doesn’t really see what the big deal is. He’s never even been to a wedding on Earth. But it’s important to Lance, so Keith is willing to suck it up and look at color swatches for a while.

So when Keith wakes up that morning, he immediately arms himself with a cup of coffee and a steely resolve to shoulder through this. “What’ll it be today?” he asks aloud. Taquito looks up sleepily from the luxurious cat bed Lance had spent too much money on and meows loudly.

“You’re right,” Keith says. “More color swatches.”

“What are you telling him?” comes a voice from the short hallway leading to their bedroom. A moment later, Lance emerges. He looks more than half asleep, with messy hair and no shirt. Keith can’t stop himself from grinning into his mug.

“Put a shirt on, pervert,” he says.

Lance ignores him, making grabby hands for Keith’s coffee. Keith deflects him with a palm to the chest before gently herding him back towards the coffee pot. 

“Are you corrupting him?” Lance continues. “My precious boy?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Of course,” he says. “Whenever you’re not around I whisper into his ear, poisoning him against you.”

“I knew it,” Lance says, before taking a long drink from his mug. Keith moves to stand next to him, shoulders brushing together. For a long moment, they just appreciate each other’s company, sipping at their respective drinks. It’s nice. Keith is starting to realize it will always be this nice.

“So,” Keith says eventually. He sets his mug down and turns to face Lance, crossing his arms. “Lay it on me.”

Lance raises an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “What?”

“Just lay it on me,” Keith repeats. “What are we doing today? Napkin fabrics? Boutonniere arrangements? Figuring out how to convince your mother that we can’t invite more people?”

Lance snorts. “I’m not ready to fight that battle,” he says. “The thing’s in a week. I don’t know where she keeps finding them.”

“So?” Keith says. “What is it today? You have the day off.”

“ _ Well _ ,” Lance says “We’re actually pretty on top of things. There are a couple details that need to be decided on, but my mom’s coming over later to help take care of that. I told Veronica we’d watch Olly for a little while, so he’ll be here…” He pauses to smile sheepishly at Keith. “Sorry.”

Keith’s not sure why he still acts this way. Close proximity to Lance’s family means that Keith has had to get used to the idea that--despite only living with one McClain--any or all of them could drop by at any moment. In the beginning, there were at least three McClains in any room at any time. Lance’s mother, Carmen, had refused to take her eyes off him, should he vanish again. Lance had apologized nonstop for it, but Keith could tell he loved having them all so close. Within the warm circle of his family, Keith watched Lance flourish, as though growing into his full potential. In the seven years Keith has known Lance, and in the five years they’ve been dating, Keith hadn’t ever known a Lance that burned this brightly, that looked this healthy. Keith valued his privacy, but the constant presence of Lance’s family had been worth it if only for that.

It sure did come with a lot of free babysitting, though.

“No, that’s fine,” Keith says, waving him off. “So you’re saying we actually have some time to ourselves? To do  _ nothing?”  _

Lance laughs. “Don’t sound so excited. Whatever happened to my workaholic ninja boyfriend? Retirement has  _ changed _ you, Keith Kogane.”

Keith snorts. “Please, the Blade had nothing on your insane wedding planning schedule.”

“Damn straight,” Lance says. “Though I have to admit having a free morning is nice.” He takes another swig of his coffee, eyeing Keith up and down. “It gives us time for...other things.”

Keith leans back, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into the pockets of his ratty sleep pants. “Oh really?” he asks, smirking. “Like what?”

“Just, you know,” Lance shrugs. “Stuff.”

“Right,” Keith says. He leans forward into Lance’s space. Lance reddens the tiniest bit at their proximity, and Keith is hopelessly endeared. He leans in further, looking into Lance’s eyes. 

He says, “I’m going back to sleep then.” Then he turns and walks away, laughing at the indignant noise that follows him.

They actually do sleep in, only waking when Veronica is at the door to drop off Lance’s nephew, and then they waste away the rest of the morning eating cereal and watching cartoons with him. It took Keith a while to get used to interacting with Lance’s nieces and nephews, but now he doesn’t mind them. Oliver, in particular, is remarkably calm and quiet for a four year old. Keith has spent many afternoons just hanging out watching Nickelodeon with him. Lance teases him for having a favorite. 

Their nice day derails around the early afternoon, when Lance gets a phone call.

By the time they arrived back on Earth, Sam Holt had already returned long before with information on the Galra and Voltron. So the Garrison knew very well what they had been doing for all of those years, and why. This didn’t change the fact that the Garrison’s first priority was paying all of the returning members of Team Voltron lots and lots of money to keep quiet about it. 

And yeah, sometimes the thought of living off of the Garrison’s dirty hush money makes Keith shiver, but him and Lance are pretty much set for life. Hunk as well, as the only other member of their team to return to Earth. Keith will pick up the odd job out of boredom, but none of them are particularly worried about money.

The reason Lance had started working at the restaurant had more to do with the wedding than anything else. When Lance had started planning the wedding it became obvious very quickly that it would exceed their budget. Keith hadn’t really liked it at first, jealous of all of the time it would take Lance away, but Lance didn’t mind. He plans on quitting as soon as the wedding is over anyway, and this way they could afford the kickass chocolate fountain that Lance  _ needed  _ to have at the reception. 

(“It’s been  _ seven years _ since I had access to chocolate, Keith. Seven years. Since  _ we _ had chocolate. We deserve it. If it weren’t for us there’d  _ be _ no chocolate. So yes, babe, I’m getting a job so I can buy shit like chocolate fountains.”)

On this day, however, the fact that Lance has a job is nothing but an inconvenience. They’re busy counting to seven over and over with Oscar the Grouch when the phone rings, and Lance’s face drops. 

“No,” Keith says. Lance frowns at him and answers, standing up to take the call in the kitchen. Olly turns his big blue eyes over to Keith, and Keith shrugs. 

“Looks like it’s you and me for the afternoon, buddy,” Keith says, reaching over to ruffle Olly’s hair. Keith can tell from the Lance’s distant, exasperated tone that he’s talking to his boss. 

A year ago, Keith would have been in full-on panic mode at the thought of being left alone with a kid this small. He feels weirdly proud about how calm he is. 

He hears Lance’s conversation devolve into a string of “yeah, okay, uh-huh”’s and waited for the inevitable frustrated groan. 

“Oh my  _ god _ .”

Lance comes stomping in. “I swear to god,” he says. “They can’t go  _ one day _ without me? How did they survive before I started working there?” He flops down onto the couch next to Keith, slipping down until his head is lying heavily on Keith’s shoulder. “I’m going back to space.” 

“You’re the one that needed the chocolate fountain,” Keith says. He drops an arm over Lance’s shoulders, pulling him in close. “When do they need you in?”

Lance sighs. “In an hour,” he says. “Only for a few hours. Someone pulled a no-call, no-show and they have a huge party coming in.”

Keith nods. “Well, I’ll be here,” he says. “Me and Olly will hold down the fort.”

Lance leans back and stares up at him with wide, sorrowful eyes. “Sorry to leave you all alone to take care of him. I’ll have mom drop by and pick him up.”

Keith shrugs. “We’ll be alright,” he says, gently pushing Lance away before leaning back. “Go get ready.”

Lance groans again, but does as he’s told. Once Lance disappears from the room, Olly looks back up at Keith again, frowning. “What’d I tell you?” Keith says. 

Olly sighs deeply. “Can we still watch Elmo?” he asks.

“Whatever you want, buddy.”

After Lance leaves, the day pretty much continues along that vein. At some point, Olly complains that he’s hungry, so Keith gets up to make some chicken nuggets. Lance sends him a stream of increasingly annoyed texts, and Keith dozes on and off in counterpoint with Olly.

It’s in the middle of one of those catnaps that Keith hears the distant ring of his communicator.

His eyes pop open, and he sits up. Olly is sprawled on the carpet with one of the toys he brought from home, and he looks curiously at Keith’s cell phone where it sits dark on the coffee table.

“Naw, buddy,” Keith says. He stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “It’s not that one.”

He starts walking back towards the bedroom and is unsurprised to hear the sound of tiny feet pattering after him.

Keith wouldn’t say they receive calls from the castle often, but it’s common enough that Keith isn’t in a rush to answer. For the first few months they were all separated, every call felt like life or death. Nowadays, a call from the castle is likely Pidge asking one of them to google something for her.

(They were able to set up a permanent form of communication between the castle and Earth relatively quickly. Pidge and Matt had made it a priority considering Hunk, Keith, and Lance had all opted to stay. It became quickly obvious that they would need a way to contact them in case Voltron was needed. One thing Pidge had  _ not _ been able to figure out was long-distance internet, and it’s  _ killing  _ her.)

When Keith finally answers the comm, however, it’s not Pidge on the other side of the view screen.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, blinking. He drops heavily at the desk they have set up for the extensive communications system.

“Don’t sound too happy to see me, now,” Shiro says, chuckling.

Keith coughs, blushing. “No, uh, sorry. I was just surprised. Is everything okay?”

“It’s okay,” Shiro says. “And yeah, everything’s good here. Is everything okay with you all?”

“Yeah,” Keith says, shrugging. “You know how it is. Wedding planning.”

Shiro grins at him, wide and sincere. “You know,” he says. “I never thought I’d hear you say anything like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Keith says. Then, he pauses, glaring sharply at Shiro on the screen. “Wait, that’s not what this is about, right? Because I swear, Shiro, if you all don’t--”

“I know, I  _ know _ ,” Shiro says. “We’ll be there, I promise. Lance even made Pidge make us a clock counting down the days, so we don’t get the ‘space dates’--” He does air-quotes with his hands. “--messed up.”

“You better,” Keith mutters. “This is the hardest I’ve ever worked at anything.” At his hip, there is the slightest tug at the bottom of his t-shirt. He glances down at Olly.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Shiro says. There’s the distant sound of voices, too far away from the comm for Keith to understand, and Shiro looks away at whoever it is. His mouth twists, and he looks annoyed. He rolls his eyes. “Jeez,” he says, when he turns back to the comm. “I just wanted to catch up--”

Another face pops into view, and Allura beams through the camera at Keith.

“Oh, it’s  _ so good _ to see you, Keith!” she says. “Truly! But I’m afraid this isn’t entirely a social call. Is this a good time for you?”

Olly tugs on Keith’s shirt again, and Keith gives up, bending down to pull him onto his lap. “Yeah, you’re good,” he says, once Olly has settled. “Just...babysitting.” He gestures at the child in his lap.

Allura coos at Olly, bright eyes practically sparkling. “And who is this?” she asks, voice already baby-soft.

“This is Oliver,” Keith says. “He’s Lance’s nephew. Olly, these are my friends Allura and Shiro. Can you say hi?” 

Olly, who had been pretty adamant in wanting to see them, is suddenly shy. He turns sideways in Keith’s lap to press his cheek to Keith’s chest, but offers them a little wave. “Hi,” he says.

“Hello Oliver!” Allura says. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Olly mumbles something that may be a garbled attempt at “nice to meet you too,” a response no doubt nailed into his head by his mother’s lessons in manners. 

Shiro says, “I agree. It’s nice to meet you, Oliver.” Then, to Keith. “They let you watch him alone?”

Keith leaves him with an unimpressed look. “Yes,” he says. “Now, what is it you guys needed?”

Shiro sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Don’t tell me anything. I barely know you anymore.”

“Not my fault.”

“We have a couple of members of the Blade of Marmora here with us,” Allura says, interrupting them. “We are aiming to assist a planet that was previously under control of the Galra Empire, but there is very little information about it. We believe you once visited there for a mission, and were hoping you could help.”

“Of course,” Keith says. “Are the Blades with you? Put them on.”

Allura’s wide smile falters, and when it returns it’s strained. Keith doesn’t know what that’s about. Maybe the Blades they’re working with are rude or something.

He wonders if he should feel awkward, sitting here in a t-shirt and sweatpants and about to talk shop with the members of the secret agent organization he previously worked for. His memories of his time with them are full of fear and exhaustion and a desperate, unfounded need to prove something to them, though he never knew what that might be. Time and a greater sense of self worth have helped him to realize that the Blade of Marmora hadn’t been good for him, wasn’t ever going to be good for him. Somehow, thinking back on that fact still has him feeling like a failure.

But at the same time, he’s content where he is in comfortable clothes and with Olly a warm weight in the circle of his arms. He has a good life now. It’s been a nice day. He decides he’s not going to let this age-old anxiety get to him.

Only then, the two Blades step into frame, and Keith lets it get to him.

He actually feels his face drop, his lips tugging down into a frown so dramatically arched he’s sure it’s a facsimile of the felt “C” that him and Olly had been watching Cookie Monster sing about not twenty minutes before. Before Keith’s mother walked into view and ruined his good day.

Keith can feel Shiro’s worried eyes on him, but he can’t make himself blink away from her. She has a staunchly formal, painfully awkward scowl on her face. Keith doesn’t recognize the Blade with her, as they have their mask on. He wonders why Krolia didn’t bother to put her own mask on. He wishes she had put on the fucking mask.

When Krolia sees him on the screen, her eyes widen the slightest bit at Olly’s presence, before she clears her throat and the stone-faced expression is back. The Blade with her drops their head in a nod at him.

“Brother Keith,” they say. “It is good to see that you are well.”

It takes Keith a moment to recognize their voice. They had gone on many missions together. “You as well, Venyk,” Keith says. “Good to see you.” He doesn’t say anything to Krolia. “What information did you guys need?”

They get into it, discussing environmental hazards and local food supply. Keith feels like he’s being scrutinized under Krolia’s gaze, and he can tell the others are picking up on his agitation. She offers none of the friendly small talk Shiro and Allura had provided, or even the polite greetings that Venyk had. He feels his shoulders winch tighter and tighter as the call continues, but Olly remains a comfort as he leans heavier into Keith’s chest, nearly asleep while the grown-ups talk about boring things. Keith lets his presence ground him. 

Keith is in the middle of explaining--for the umpteenth time--that his time spent on that planet had been pretty much entirely staking out in the mountains, and he had little to no contact with the local population, when he hears the distant sound of keys in the front door.

Keith can feel the ball of anxiety that had been building up in his throat over the last hour or so start to deflate. He pauses his sentence, listening.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asks.

“Nothing,” Keith says, distracted. He returns his attention to the screen. “I think Lance just got home.”

They resume their conversation, with Keith listening for the sounds of Lance coming down the hall to find him. Only, when he does hear the sound of footsteps, they’re too quick and loud to be Lance.

He stops talking again, sitting up in his chair. Shiro asks again what’s wrong, and Keith holds up a finger to quiet him.

“Carmen?” he calls.

“Keith!” Lance’s mother bursts into the room, purse dangling from one elbow an the other wrapped around the over-filled binder she’s been keeping details of the wedding in. She drops both of those things onto the bed and makes her way to Keith. “Oh,  _ mijo,  _ how are you?”

“I’m good,” Keith says, coughing awkwardly. He can feel eyes on him. “Are you here for Olly?”

The thing about Lance and his mother is they have a relationship Keith has been trying to understand for about a year now, but continuously fails to comprehend. They tell each other everything.  _ Everything _ . From everything they’ve eaten in the passed week to how often they’ve gone to the bathroom to  _ extremely personal details about him and Keith’s relationship. _ Lance gave her a key to their apartment when they moved in, and failed to tell Keith about it until she walked in on Keith watching  _ House Hunters: International _ in his underwear at three o’clock in the afternoon. And yet, Lance is constantly whining to everyone who will listen that she is violating their privacy. Keith doesn’t get it, and he’s stopped trying. He’s taken to dealing with it by sleeping with one eye open, keeping an ear out for the distant sound of a five foot nothing Cuban woman on a rampage. Like a tornado siren.

She nods at him. “Lance called to tell me about the situation and I came as soon as I could.” She walks over and bends primly to hug Keith around the shoulders with one arm, reaching down to run her knuckles down Olly’s cheek at the same time. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Keith says, feeling his face flush at the attention. He catches the interested eyes of the people on the screen. “Really. It’s...uhh…”

Carmen finally notices the comm, gasping and immediately moving to fix her hair. “ _ Keith _ ,” she hisses. “You could have told me you were on the phone!”

He actually probably couldn’t have. Lance’s mother isn’t really known for her patience. She tends to charge right into things. Once, when they had first started dating, Lance had said to Keith. “You know what? It’s funny. You remind me of my mom.”

(Keith’s response had been, “What the  _ fuck _ ?”)

Keith sighs, resigned. “Carmen, you’ve heard about Allura and Shiro, right? He gestures at the screen. “Allura, Shiro, this is Lance’s mom, Carmen. The other two are Venyk and Krolia. They’re allies of Voltron.”

“It’s  _ very nice  _ to meet you,” she tells them, voice louder than it needs to be. “Of course, I know about Princess Allura and Captain Shirogane! My son has nothing but kind words to say about you all.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Espinosa,” Shiro says. He’s grinning from ear to ear, obviously holding in laughter at Keith’s red face. “Lance speaks highly of you as well.”

“Oh, I was talking about Keith,” Carmen says, squeezing Keith’s shoulders. “I trust Keith’s judgment. And speaking of, what did you call me?”

Keith winces. “Uh, Ma--” He cuts himself off. Since Lance had explained to her that Voltron was Keith’s only family, she had developed a rather aggressive approach at adopting him into their family, which had included drilling into his head for months the concept of him calling her “Mom.” Keith glances over at the viewscreen. Krolia has a look on her face like she’s been sucking on a lemon. Keith feels very small. “It’s just...this isn’t exactly a social call…”

“What do you mean, not a social call?” She places her hands on her hips. “What are they getting you into?”

“Nothing.”

Keith turns, shocked, back to the screen. Krolia crosses her arms. “We simply called for information. He was once an important asset to our organization and we need his intel.” She raises an eyebrow at Carmen, mouth pursed. The expression is familiar, and Keith is horrified to realize it’s because he’s seen it in the mirror. 

Carmen is unfazed. She actually wags her finger at the screen, expression fierce. “That had better be all this is,” she says, “because these boys have suffered enough fighting. They deserve a break.”

Keith, despite his embarrassment, is endeared by her protectiveness. Since he had met her and the rest of Lance’s family, they had blown passed all his expectations. Carmen’s capacity for love has yet to stop shocking Keith, who had grown up feeling like people were only allotted so much of it, and that all of his had left with his parents.

“Mom,” he says softly, for once the name rolling off of his tongue easily, with none of the awkwardness he’s become accustomed to. “It’s fine, really. They just had some questions.”   
  


Carmen glances down at Keith, and her expression softens. Then, she returns to her finger wagging.

“That better be true,” she says, and then seems to realize who she’s talking to. She mutters some kind of expletive in Spanish--one Lance has yet to teach Keith--and bends to speak into Keith’s ear.

She says, “ _ Ay dios mio _ ...those two...they’re aliens?” in a whisper so loud Keith is surprised it hadn’t woken Olly. Keith bites his lip against a laugh.

“Yeah,” he says at full volume. “They’re Galra. Like me, remember? And Allura’s Altean.”

Her whole demeanor changes. She says, “Oh yes! Of course! It is very nice to meet you two. Any friend of Keith’s is welcome. Keith, have you invited them--”

She’s interrupted by a harsh clearing of a throat, and all attention is on Krolia.

Venyk is unreadable, due to his mask, but Keith can see the occasional flick of his tail whipping nervously behind him. Shiro looks as though he’s in agony, like he would rather be anywhere but there. Allura’s gaze is darting between them all as though frantically calculating a way to diffuse the tension. 

Krolia says, “We are  _ not _ friends.”

Venyk stares at her, Shiro’s face darkens in a glare, and Allura’s eyes widen. Keith feels something in him crack open and spill, warm like blood. He feels heat rising in his cheeks. He can practically hear the grinding of his teeth. 

Carmen raises an eyebrow. “Oh?” she says. “You aren’t?” Her face is stony, and Keith is sure she’s prepared to fight for him depending on what Krolia says next.

“No,” Krolia says, matter-of-factly. “We are comrades in arms, fellow members of the Blade of Marmora. And I,” she pauses, and Keith sees her visibly calm herself. “I am his mother.”

Carmen reels back slightly, both eyebrows raised now. “I wasn’t aware,” she says, after a moment. She glances down at Keith, and then back at Keith. “Keith told me he didn’t have a mother.”

Keith flinches, looking down at Olly. On the screen, Krolia’s shoulders slump the tiniest bit. There’s a long moment of silence before Krolia says, “Well, he does.”

Another awkward silence, and Keith sees Allura take a breathe, ready to attempt to mediate the conversation, but she’s interrupted by Carmen, who sighs loudly. “Well,” she says. “I suppose there’s only one thing to do.”

Krolia crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowing. “And what is that?”

A bright smile unfurls over Carmen’s face. She says, “Why, invite you to the wedding, of course!”

Keith’s stomach drops.

***

Years before, when Keith was much younger but felt like he was much older, he stood across the cockpit of a spaceship from a woman he didn’t know, fresh from yet another near-death experience.

When he thinks back on it, the memory is spotty and unclear. He remembers the weight of his armor pressing in on his shoulders. He remembers his heart beating too fast, as though it hadn’t yet realized he was no longer in danger. He remembers how his sweat had clumped the hair at the back of his neck, and he remembers the chilling, almost slimy feeling he got when he looked at her, like was looking at something he shouldn’t.

She had talked about his knife like it meant something. She said it was hers, and the implications of that felt so far-fetched that Keith had a hard time believing any of it was actually happening. Keith had been shot into space in the cockpit of a giant, magical lion ship, had discovered he wasn’t fully human, and had travelled to an alternate dimension, but the idea of finding his mother still felt impossible.

He said, “You’re my--”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I am your mother.” Keith felt an almost hysterical laughter build in his throat at her phrasing. He thought for a moment about what his friends back at the castle would say if they knew. Lonely orphan boy, shot into space to face his grand destiny, finds his absent parent aboard an enemy base. He could hear Lance’s exaggerated Darth Vader breathing already. 

She didn’t say anything after that, simply waiting for Keith’s reaction. But Keith’s brain was a mess of white noise, like something had been disconnected. Out of nowhere a memory came to him of his father, whole and healthy and cursing at their ancient, finicky television. And then another memory, of his dad in a hospital bed and Keith pressing over and over onto the nurse’s emergency call button, babbling and pleading with fat tears rolling down his cheeks and neck. The white noise in his head faded to nothing, and a red hot haze settled over everything. 

He said, “I don’t have a mother.”

“You do,” she said. She pressed a gloved hand to her own chest. “I--”

“No, you don’t understand,” Keith said, interrupting her. “I don’t have a mother. The person who gave birth to me left before I ever knew her. She  _ abandoned _ us.” His shoulders hitched up. “Me. She abandoned me. And as soon as she did that she lost any right to calling herself a mother.”

The hand pressed over her heart curled into a loose fist, and she stood a little straighter than she had been before.

She said, “Keith.” Just like that, like a plea. And for a small moment Kith questioned himself. Hadn’t he joined the Blade to know more about himself? To develop a better understanding of who he was, of the strange blood running through him? 

He had come so far in the time he’d been in space. He’d grown and changed and he’d become stronger, and he still had a long way to go.

And yet, his doubt came and went in the blink of an eye. He thought, “ _ She had nothing to do with who I am. _ ” and “ _ If she hadn’t left, I would know about my heritage already.”  _ and  _ “I can’t deal with this right now. _ ”

He said, “We’re done here,” and returned to the pilot’s seat.

***

Keith hunches over in the bathroom of his tiny apartment and listens to the trill of the phone pressed to his ear. He can still hear the distant sound of his future mother-in-law, laying out the itinerary for his wedding.

The ringing stops, and for once the sound of Lance’s cheery voice doesn’t calm the raging storm of Keith’s anxiety.

He hisses, “You need to come home.  _ Now _ .”

Then he hangs up and ducks his head between his knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on [ tumblr](http://wizzardblizzard.tumblr.com/) and bother me into continuing this!! if we want good content in this shitshow i guess we gotta do everything ourselves!!!!
> 
> thanks for reading byyyyyeeeeeee


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